Being John Crichton
by Nixa Jane
Summary: While on another world, Daniel suffers the consequences of a little case of mistaken identity. (Crossover with Farscape)
1. Bad Day

**The Dangers of Being John Crichton--as told by John Crichton and Daniel Jackson.**

Set around the beginning of the second season for Farscape, fourth for Stargate.

Author's Notes: This story starts out as Daniel's POV, but will alternate between Daniel and John narrating. Other characters will play a bigger part later, but this prologue focuses on Daniel. Also, it should be noted that Daniel is snarky to an extreme. I take no blame for this--blame Jack.

* * *

As far as bad days go, I've had worse. I've been dead a few times, so ironically enough, those were some of the worst days of my life. But sitting here, in a strange alien vessel, chained to a bulkhead with two smelly thugs leaning over me insisting my name is John Crichton, I've definitely had better.

The day started out routine enough--my alarm woke me at six, I showered, brushed my teeth, headed off to travel across the galaxy and protect Earth from the threats of the universe. Then, as I was sitting at an alien temple, minding my own business and translating the Ancient's text--these two clowns showed up and hit me over the head with a rock.

They actually used a rock. Not to be conceited or anything, but I'm pretty much a wanted figure in this universe. It's a little insulting they thought they could take me with a rock. Never mind that they could, it's insulting all the same. And they don't even have my name right.

The two aliens are still sneering and trying to communicate with me. I'm only half listening, because I don't have any clue what language they're speaking, and that rock hit the back of my head hard enough I don't care. The only part I understand is when they point empathically at me and say, "John Crichton."

I would then point to myself and say, "No, Daniel Jackson."

And then the yelling would start again.

It was getting tiresome.

And much as I didn't want to admit it, a little worrying. Because this ship has already left the planet's atmosphere, and even though I knew Jack and the others would be looking for me, they won't reach me here without the Tok'ra's help. And that takes time.

I looked again at the two aliens. They were watching me curiously, and looked decidedly unimpressed. I was unimpressed as well. They looked like bipedal Mastages, and smelled twice as bad. I'm not usually one to judge on appearances, but from their body language and tones, I was convinced that in this case what you see is what you get.

"Look, would you just shut up already?" I snapped. "I'm not John Crichton, and I don't know any John Crichton, so you can just give it up with all the pointing and ranting."

This makes them both pause, and I realized, as they look back at me with angry comprehension in their eyes, they understood every word I said. I had no clue what they were talking about, but they had no problems understanding me. Well, one way communication was better than no communication. Maybe.

"You understand me?" I said.

They share a look, and even I could get the just of that look. It was a 'is this guy really as stupid as he looks' kind of look. I roll my eyes. I know I used to be more patient with alien cultures than this. I blamed Jack.

"Right. You understand me. Okay. Good. Now, I'm obviously not who you're looking for. So, I think you should just take me back to the planet and--" I stopped talking as one of the aliens made a growling noise that would have put even Teal'c to shame. I got the just of that too. They didn't like that idea.

I opened my mouth to make another suggestion, this one much less diplomatic, but the sound of a sharp female voice cuts me off. The two Mastage-People run over to one of the control consoles, and I'm guessing they're getting a message. I have no idea what the woman is saying, but the language is succinct and clipped, nothing like my captor's guttural and incomprehensible gibberish. But, strangely enough, they seem to understand her perfectly as well.

And I got the impression they didn't like what she was saying.

One of my captors was screaming into some kind of com device, but he was cut off when the entire ship shook. Smoke started pouring out of some kind of vent to my right. I tried to get away from it, but the chains around my wrists kept me from going far.

They were screaming loudly now, harshly, but the female voice coming through the com remained unnaturally cool. I wasn't sure who I should be more wary of. These two, or whoever it was attacking them. I started coughing as more smoke started to rush at me from the vent, but I could still tell that the ship had been stopped. They had surrendered. Now, to just hope this was a good thing, and I wasn't just about to leave the frying pan for the fire.

Which, of course, would be just my luck.

I looked over at my two captors. They were against the wall, their weapons held ready, watching the door at the end of this room. It only took a minute for the door to finally open, but when it did there was no one there. The Mastage-People tensed, and readjusted their grips on their weapons. It didn't help.

A woman, who looked to be human, swung into a view, two pistols held out in front of her. The Mastage-People were dead before they hit the ground.

"John!"

The woman was looking over at me, and I could see even through all the smoke how worried she looked. So she was after John too, only for better reasons as she was obviously trying to help him. That was good. The downside? What would she do when she realized I wasn't him?

She raced across the room and knelt beside me, I was in the middle of a coughing fit, but I could still see her eyes widen in fear as she looked at me. She snarled something at me in her language, and grabbed my hair to harshly force my head back. Whoever said the enemy of my enemy is my friend, anyway?

"Hey, hey," I said. "Stop!" She only glares at me, but I know she understood me as well. I took a guess at what she was asking me. "Look, I don't know where your friend is. John Crichton, right, you're looking for him?"

She nodded.

"That's who they thought I was," I told her.

She frowned but let go of my head. She said something else to me. This time I can't even make a guess at what it is.

"I can't understand you," I told her. "I don't speak your language, I'm sorry, I've never encountered anything like it."

She looked at me for a moment, made a sound of frustration, then got to her feet and started towards the door--leaving me chained to a damaged ship with two corpses that smelled bad before they were dead. I didn't think so.

"Hey, wait!" I called after her. "Can you at least untie me? Maybe I can help you."

She turned around and looked at me. Maybe language isn't so important after all. I knew exactly what she was thinking. '_You_? Help _me_?'

"Please," I told her. "I have to get back to my friends."

Her gaze seemed to soften somewhat then, and she walked back over to me. I was just about to give a sigh of relief when she pulled out her weapon and aimed it at me. She blasted the chain that attached the cuffs to the bulkhead, and then grabbed it. With a tug, she forced me to my feet.

"Hey," I protested. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind."

She said something to me then, but since I haven't magically learned to comprehend her language since the last time she spoke, I still had no clue what she's telling me. She started walking towards the door again, pulling the chain to drag me behind her.

I get the feeling this is bad. Very bad. I may well have been better off with the Mastage-People.

TBC


	2. Home For Dinner

The Dangers of Being John Crichton-as told by John Crichton and Daniel Jackson.

Author's Notes: I don't like this part half as much as the first one, and the reason it has taken so long to get it up is I've been trying to think of a way to rewrite it or change it - but I'm thinking for what I have planned this part is going to have to be necessary. Hopefully things will pick up more in the next parts…

* * *

**Back on the planet, John's POV. **

-

Okay. So Aeryn was right.

There's absolutely nothing on this planet. I know she's going to give me hell when she forces me to admit she was right. I take one last look at the abandoned ruins and turn on my heel, heading back to where Aeryn's waiting with the transport.

Pilot had picked up what he thought was wormhole activity as we were passing by, and I had let myself believe, for a minute, I may have found a way home. Aeryn, always a fatalist, hadn't wanted to come down here. She kept insisting all that was left were ruins and sand. Not to mention we were all still a little paranoid about the bounty hunters after me.

We had found a reward-beacon on the last commerce planet we visited, it was Scorpius, offering quite a lot for my capture. Two weird looking beast-like-think Klingon meets Smoky the Bear-bounty hunters hadn't given us a moment's peace since they spotted us cheerfully blasting the afore mentioned reward-beacon to hell.

But I had to at least check the place out, even if it will have Aeryn glaring and snapping at me for the better part of the next few arns. Pilot swore to me there was a forming wormhole on the planet . . . which, actually, shouldn't even have been possible...

My train of thought is abruptly derailed as I headed back to where Aeryn was waiting for me. Was being the key word. I knew she was pissed, but this is ridiculous.

"Aeryn!" I snapped into my com. "Aeryn, where the frell are you? Pilot? Can you hear me? Hello?"

Oh, damn. I hate it when this happens.

They wouldn't have left me here, would they? No. No, they wouldn't. They spent three months looking for me when they knew me much less than they do now. I pause for a minute, as the possibility that they _would_ be more likely to leave me now that they knew me better fleetingly passed through my mind.

"Aeryn," I tried again. "AERYN!"

Okay, they must have had an emergency. Maybe Scorpius showed up and they had to Starburst. But why wouldn't Aeryn tell me what was happening first?

I had just decided to turn around and head back to the ruins until they came back when I felt something cool press against my neck. "Don't move," someone whispered in my ear.

Oh frell. From bad to worse.

It sucked being me.

I raised my hands, because that sometimes works.

"I said don't move," the voice told me irritated, but there's a teasing note in it that told me this guy isn't worried about me at all.

"Raising my hands seemed the appropriate thing to do. Prisoner etiquette and all that," I told him. Sometimes my sparkling personality gets people not to kill me. Not often, but it's always worth a shot.

"You're right," he said good-naturedly. "I guess that's okay then."

I felt the gun pull away from my neck and heard the guy back up. "Where's my friend?" he asked.

"_Your_ friend?" I echoed. I can't even find my friends; his odds aren't good if I'm his best bet at information. "How should I know? I was looking for _my_ friend when you came around threatening to shoot me."

"He did not, in fact, threaten to shoot you."

This voice is much deeper than the other, and I turned my eyes towards the source. A large, intimidating man with some kind of gold birth mark on his forehead was glaring over at me.

"Right. Okay. _So_ sorry. When he came and held his gun to my neck in an entirely innocent manner." I winced when the words registered in my own mind. So much for my sparkling personality.

"Turn around," the first voice demanded. "Slowly."

I rolled my eyes and turned to face him. At least he hadn't noticed Winona yet-my long leather jacket was wonderful for concealing weapons. There were three of them, and I have no idea how they all managed to sneak up behind m-wait, wait, wait, what are those uniforms, are those…? I know those guns-

"Are you from Earth?" I blurted.

The guy I'm assuming is the leader raises an eyebrow at me. "That's us. The Tauri. Who the hell are you?"

"The Tauri?" I repeated dubiously. Maybe they aren't from Earth. My eyes are drawn back to the largest member of my ambush squad. He certainly didn't look like he was from Earth.

"Or, humans, if you like," the pretty blonde woman said when she catches onto my confusion.

I looked over to her, and saw a pair of dog-tags resting on top of her black t-shirt. "Yes, human sounds more familiar, Major."

Her eyes widened at the use of her rank, and beside her, the Colonel's narrowed. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Commander John Crichton of the I.A.S.A," I told them. "How the frell did you get here?"

"Frell?" the Colonel mouthed bemusedly.

"Wait a second," Carter said. "John Crichton? Of the Farscape Project? That's you? You can't be . . . you can't be him."

"The one and the only," I told her. "But you didn't answer my question. How did you get here?"

"You tell us first," the Colonel demanded.

I opened my mouth to tell him, but the Major beat me to it. "He was sent through a wormhole," she whispered.

The Colonel threw her a look. "Carter?"

"He was doing an experiment," she said. "He took the Farscape 1 into orbit of the planet, and a radiation wave hit, sending him spiraling through a wormhole. He was presumed dead."

"Yep," I agreed. "Looks like I got famous after I left."

"Yes," Carter told me. "The I.A.S.A was devastated-I was brought in to try and help them figure out what happened. I can't believe you're alive!"

"Carter," the Colonel snapped. "When did you help the I.A.S.A.?"

"It was a couple of years ago, sir. I went to try and help out when we were put on stand down. Daniel's not going to believe this," Carter whispered with what I can _only_ call glee.

At the mention of this Daniel, the Colonel's eyes hardened. He spun back to face me. "You don't know anything about Daniel?" he demanded.

I stared at him blankly, and he correctly interpreted this as a no and turned to face the big bald guy.

"Alright," he said. "As wondrous and unlikely as this turn of events is," and this is said with all the sarcasm he could muster, I could tell. "We still have to find Daniel. He wouldn't have left those ruins on his own."

"You still haven't told me how you got here!" I shouted. Maybe I'm being mildly impatient. But they're from Earth, and they're HERE, which means they _might_ have a way back.

He spared me a glance. "That's because I don't have the time. One of my team is missing, probably captured. Do you know who inhabits this planet?"

"No one," I told him. "Aeryn and I thought we were the only ones here."

"Aeryn?" Carter asked.

"She's gone," I told them. "I don't know what happened, but when I came back she was gone."

The Colonel's eyes narrowed again. "Do you think she took Daniel? Do you trust her?"

I gave him another blank stare. Took Daniel? Why would she want to take this Daniel? "No, she didn't 'take' anyone," I snapped. "Something bad must have happened. Maybe someone else came and took your friend and that's why she left."

"She left you here alone?" the big bald guy asked.

"I'm sure she had a good reason," I told him defensively. They only ever abandoned me when they had good reasons. Except for maybe Rygel, who I'm sure would do it just for kicks.

"Right," the Colonel says. By the tone of his voice, I'm guessing he's not entirely convinced.

"Look," I said. "Please, just tell me-do you know how to get home?" I hoped I didn't sound as pathetic as I thought, but from their expressions, I was pretty sure I had.

The Major shot the Colonel a questioning look, and he nodded. She turned to me with a wide grin. "If you are who you say you are," she told me. "We can have you home in time for dinner."

TBC.


End file.
